The victory over the IKEA Golem had been sweet, mostly because it involved eating Swedish meatballs, but the aftertaste was bitter.
Elara Vance sat at the window of the Meow & Bow, watching Gorg the Orc peel the CONDEMNED sticker off the glass. He did it slowly, with the meticulous care of a bureaucrat who enjoyed making people wait.
"Your fine is paid," Gorg grunted, tucking the check into his polo shirt. "But you are on probation, Ms. Vance. If I see one more dragon flame, or if your vampire waiter attempts to 'seduce' a health inspector again..."
"I was not seducing!" Aldren shouted from the back, where he was nursing a bruised ego and a hex-wrench injury. "I was establishing dominance!"
"...then I will revoke your occupancy permit permanently," Gorg finished. He tipped his tiny green hat and lumbered away down the street, which was currently being paved by a crew of dwarves in high-vis vests.
